The excitement is engulfing

From the below, it should be clear that I was quite happy to get on the train to Bucharest from Chisinau. Five hours was scheduled to clear the border from Moldova into Romania, one of the far eastern borders of the EU. A Romanian Customs guard, having made a very cursory check that I wasn't planning to make my fortune smuggling any cheap booze or untaxed ciggies into Romania, sat down and chatted at me for an hour in English and French. He showed me all the placed in a train cabin it is possible for people smugglers to conceal their cargo. His passion was maps and he got very excited about mine. Next time I'm in Romania, I'll know all the places to visit. Feeling a little tired and under the weather, I decided to slow down a little and not bolt around the country like a deranged creature. I'm here in Bucharest, a city that is as dead as a doornail on a Sunday afternoon, for a few more days and will use it as my base for an expedition into the cold heart of Transylvania and then I'll jump on yet another night train all the way to Istanbul.

Oh, just one more whinge about Moldova... How’s this for a catch-22. Foreigners have to have their passport on them at all times as they are subject to spot checks from the police, presumably to check that they're not outstaying the toasty warm welcome. My hotel wouldn’t release my passport for the duration of my stay. For me, this wasn’t a problem because I am in the unusual situation of holding two passports. So whilst the UK passport with the Moldovan entry stamp languished in the safe (I hoped) at the hotel, I flashed my Australian passport – which I realised in retrospect entitled me to nothing, whose lack of entry stamp and the visa necessary for Australia made me an illegal alien – at the cops who didn’t even check it. They looked at the stamps from Asia, slapped each other on the back, pointed at me, laughed, and gave back my passport.